


Sanctified

by Morgana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Religious Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel gives Sam what he needs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctified

There were lots of times Sam wished he could be just a little bit shorter. Being 6'4" tended to get in the way when he was trying to be inconspicuous at a bar, and forget dealing with distraught witnesses, especially women. He'd learned early on to tuck his arms in and hunch his shoulders, and while that helped, there was only so much he could do to make himself smaller. There was just no getting around the way he stuck out in a crowd, and while his size came in handing dealing with the occasional asshole who got pissed because he'd taken his money, it definitely didn't help when it came to sex.

Oh, he had no trouble finding people willing to go to bed with him. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that most of them just assumed that someone his size would be taking charge. And while Sam certainly didn't mind topping, he really preferred being the one shoved to his knees and held down. He knew all the arguments about dominance being mental instead of physical, and he wasn't about to argue - he'd known a girl at Stanford who was all of 5'3" that had put more than one guy who towered over her in his place - but sometimes there was just no substitute for physical strength. Unfortunately, though, there just weren't that many guys around who possessed the kind of strength needed to manhandle Sam the way he wanted.

Angels, though... angels weren't bound by societal rules, gender roles, the limits of flesh and bone, or even the laws of physics. They stood outside it all, a force unto themselves that a mere man had to respect, no matter how tall or strong he was. Sam couldn't understand how Dean could talk to them so casually, tell them to fuck off and give them nicknames, when every time he was in their presence it took all of his will to simply remain upright. They were pure power, a tidal wave of energy packed into whatever body they happened to be riding, and Sam didn't know how Dean didn't seem to see that.

Far more intimidating, though, or at least in the case of the angel that seemed to have appointed himself Dean Winchester's personal guardian, were the eyes. Those blue eyes saw everything, from Sam's jeans that hadn't been washed in almost a week, to Dean's hidden porn stash, to every single secret they both possessed. Sam was keenly aware of that sharp gaze every time it landed on him, and while Castiel hadn't viewed him with the same open disdain that Uriel had, there was still no hiding anything from him.

Like now. Sam had been hard ever since he'd found the keycard in his jacket pocket just before they walked into the diner, and while Dean seemed thankfully oblivious, Castiel's impassive gaze let Sam know that he was completely aware of his reaction. It took every bit of his control to get through lunch with his brother and the angel without running for the door, but somehow Sam managed to act semi-normal before he made a clumsy excuse about needing to research that allowed him to get away. He hurried across the street to the hotel, as always a little uncomfortable about going into a place like this without being cleaned up and a little better dresesd, but neither the doorman nor the front desk clerk said anything to stop him as he headed over to the elevator and pressed the call button.

A few minutes later, Sam pushed the card into the door of suite 4017 and stepped inside. He closed the door carefully behind him and stripped, carrying his clothes into the bathroom to lay them on the counter. There was never any telling how long he had to prepare, so he hurried through his shower, dried himself off, and walked into the bedroom, where a black satin blindfold waited for him on the pillow. Sam shuddered at the sight of it and walked over to pick it up, kissing the material before he tied it in place and ran a hand across the bedspread to guide him as he lay down on the bed and carefully raised his hands, wrists crossed neatly above his head.

The bed was bigger than the ones he was used to - softer and cleaner, too, and he dozed off without really meaning to, but the soft click of the door closing snapped him into full wakefulness. "Samuel," Castiel's voice said evenly.

Somehow, hearing his formal name used sent a shudder through him, his dick rising to full and swift attention. He swallowed hard and nodded, feeling himself blush all the way up his body, a slow flood of heat that left him unable to speak until Castiel ordered, "Say it." When Sam didn't obey immediately, the angel snapped, " _Now_ , Samuel!"

"I-I give myself into the service of God and His angels," he blurted out and was immediately rewarded with the stroke of a single fingertip up the sole of first one foot and then another.

"Thus shall ye do in the fear of the Lord, faithfully, and with a perfect heart," Castiel murmured. Sam could feel the air around him shift as the angel moved closer and he licked his lips, unable to completely stifle a whimper when hands closed around his ankles, pulling them apart and holding them tight.

He couldn't hold the moan back when his wrists were pinned to the bed in short order and the first prickle of power slid over his skin. Sam didn't know if Castiel was really holding him, if he somehow was able to summon extra hands for his vessel, or if it was just an illusion created by angelic power, but he really didn't care. Neither did his dick, which twitched violently as the faint pincushion of Castiel's essence drifted over it.

Castiel's voice seemed to come from far away, even though his breath played hotly over Sam's arched throat. "As for those who disbelieved, their deeds are like a mirage in the desert." A gust of air swept over him, hot and arid, and Sam thought he could actually smell the sand, feel it burning beneath his feet and scraping over his skin. He bit his lip and pulled against the hand that held his wrists, but he couldn't move, had to lay there and listen to Castiel preach to him while power buffeted him like a leaf in a hurricane.

He was achingly hard, precome welling up to slick his skin when Castiel said, "Return, ye backsliding child, and I will heal your backslidings." The edges of the blindfold began to glow with a light that was like nothing else on earth and Sam closed his eyes against it before it could do more than faintly dazzle his senses. As soon as his eyes were shut, he could feel the tension build around him, the room growing heavy with it, like the air before a storm broke. And just like the earth in such instances, Sam trembled with equal parts eager need and fear as he waited.

It started at his hands and moved down, raking over his bare skin like claws teasing him with the promise of more, a slow furl of power that seemed connected directly to his dick. "Please," he gasped, the word breaking from him in a sob. "Please... I can't - I need - Please!!"

There was no reply, only the heavy buzz of heat moving over his skin with that same tantalizingly slow caress. Sam was out of his head, nearly incoherent with need when Castiel said his name in a low, rasping voice and pushed that bright thrum of power straight into him, shoving it under his skin in a blinding flash that Sam could see even through the blindfold and his closed eyes.

"For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband." Castiel's voice deepened with the last few words and Sam could hear the rustle of wings as they spread above him right before Castiel delved _inside_ him, burning through every cell in his body in an instant that spanned an aeon.

Sam thrashed wildly against the hands that held him, but Castiel's grip didn't give so much as fraction of an inch. There was nothing to do but lie there and take the full force of the angel's possession. It brought every cell of his body to life and if being a vessel was like being chained to a comet, then this was like riding a star or standing on the surface of the sun. It was, quite simply, too much for any human to bear. Sam threw his head back and screamed as the light brightened still further, encompassing everything in the world in an all-consuming blaze of golden power.

When his mind had recovered enough to leave him hoping he'd be able to assemble his scattered molecules into something approaching a human form, he was dimly aware of the light easing back, each slow inch that it retreated leaving him a little more solid. As it pulled completely away with one last caress, Sam's full consciousness returned. He was a mess, covered as he was in come that was quickly turning cold and sticky and uncomfortable, but he was used to that. What he didn't think he'd ever get used to was how _alone_ he always felt in his own skin for hours after this.

"Say it," Castiel said quietly, a note of something that sounded almost like tenderness in his voice.

Sam licked dry lips and repeated, "I give myself into the service of God and His angels." He barely recognized his own voice; his vocal chords were stripped from screaming, but that wasn't what made his voice sound so shaky and almost tear-filled.

Castiel's hands released him and he bent down to him, whispering, "These it is that are the truthful and the faithful ones in the sight of their Lord; they shall have their reward and their light." Lips closed on his in a light kiss that felt like it carried the full benediction of Heaven with it, and Sam kissed back for as long as he was allowed, grateful that for that moment, at least, he didn't feel quite so alone.


End file.
